


Lightning Struck

by Brynncognito



Series: Like the Sun [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), BDSM, BDSM Scene, Bondage, Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crying, Demon Sex, Dirty Talk, Dissociation, Dom Crowley (Good Omens), Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Hemipenes, M/M, Mentioned Gabriel (Good Omens), Orgasm Denial, Other, Pillow Principality Aziraphale (Good Omens), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Crowley, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Post-Canon, Roleplay, Rope Bondage, Scarification, Self-Esteem Issues, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Roleplay, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Sort Of, Subspace, Switching, Teasing, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Transformation, Under-negotiated Kink, for lack of a better tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 05:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21248372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynncognito/pseuds/Brynncognito
Summary: Crowley turns the tables on Aziraphale. Discovery of new kinks is had.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Detailed warnings at the end.
> 
> There's an epilogue and it's pretty much finished, I'm just making some minor tweaks to it. (And yes, there's fuckin' in it.)
> 
> Beta'd once again by the wonderful Jadelyn on tumblr, who has been a very good sport about how often I chuck Good Omens smut at them for review.

It had started, as it often did, with a heavy snog in the backroom of Aziraphale’s bookshop. Since they’d started fucking (or _ making love_, as Aziraphale would prefer to call it) regularly, they’d defiled nearly every surface in the shop at _ least _ once. They’d also been nearly caught by customers on countless occasions (which Aziraphale never seemed to mind much, and Crowley was beginning to suspect he had a _ thing _ for exhibitionism) and, on one particularly memorable occasion, Crowley had been unceremoniously stuffed beneath Aziraphale’s desk while Aziraphale’s voice ascended an octave as he gave the archangel _ fucking _ Gabriel an unexpected greeting.

On this particular occasion, though, Aziraphale was straddling Crowley’s lap, all mussed and rumpled and half-undressed in the way Crowley _ particularly _ liked, and Crowley wanted a bit more room to work with than Aziraphale’s cluttered backroom (or equally cluttered flat) permitted.

“Allow me,” Crowley purred. A vague wave of his hand (a careless, reckless use of his power-- especially now-- but fuck it, he was a _ demon_) and their surroundings dissolved, replaced by a familiar flat, all hard lines and cold edges. His bed, however, was a plush, _sumptuous _ thing, and it was there they appeared, Aziraphale landing with a startled _ ‘oomph’ _ and giving Crowley an unimpressed look from where he lay sprawled.

“A bit of _ warning _ next time, there’s a dear fellow,” Aziraphale remarked snippily, and Crowley’s brow twitched, a wolfish grin on his face.

“Or _ what_?” Crowley replied, goading. Aziraphale glanced away, evasive, and Crowley’s grin settled into something _ smug_. It was _ his _ turn to take charge now, and both of them knew it.

And, okay, perhaps it was a _ bit _ over-dramatic for the silky-soft, sturdy rope he summoned to have snaked its way up from all four bed corners, sinuously gliding across glossy satin to wind abruptly and determinedly around Aziraphale’s wrists and ankles. This earned a squawk of protest, and a token bit of jostling against the restraints, before Aziraphale finally sighed and slumped back, relaxing into Crowley’s (admittedly, _ sinfully _ comfortable mattress). “I suppose I _ did _ ask for that one.”

Crowley smirked, acknowledging the truth in the statement, prompting another rather put-upon sigh from Aziraphale that Crowley _ knew _ was all show, because it was accompanied by Aziraphale’s legs spreading fairly lewdly wide, back even giving a _ bit _ of an arch in a way that showed off his gorgeous, soft body, far more plush and sumptuous than even Crowley’s obscenely expensive mattress. (And _ that _ was a thought he didn't plan to examine too closely, the idea that his bed reminded him of Aziraphale.)

“I could eat you up, angel… Swallow you _ whole_,” Crowley hissed, tongue flicking out briefly to scent the air, snake-like nature asserting itself for a moment. It wasn’t the first time he’d done such a thing in Aziraphale’s presence, but it _ was _ the first time in the bedroom. And judging by the way Aziraphale’s eyes widened and lips parted, he _ liked _ this new development. Crowley smugly tucked the thought _ ‘Aziraphale has a thing for my tongue’ _ away in a little drawer in his mind for safekeeping, so he could take it out later and examine it from all angles in the, ahem, _ privacy _ of his own bed. (Or Aziraphale’s bed. Or Aziraphale’s bookshop, for that matter.) 

“And is that what you’re going to do, _ foul fiend_? Do you plan to _ devour _ me?” Aziraphale’s chin lifted, defiant and _ tempting _ (and the words _ ‘Oh, well let me tempt you to--’ _played through his mind, a tantalizing memory of then-stifled lust). By now, they’d played around quite a bit with Aziraphale topping, even _ dominating _ Crowley, and even more so with Crowley’s newfound _ kink _ for Aziraphale’s angelic power. But _ this _ was new-- newer, even, than the handful of occasions Aziraphale had gladly let Crowley take charge in the bedroom and fuck him hard into the mattress.

Crowley was altogether _ not _ prepared for Aziraphale to thrust himself so boldly into the roleplay (if that was what this could be called), and certainly not for the dizzying way his blood rushed southward once more. But he was nothing if not _ adaptable _ (even if he was technically cold-blooded, and therefore more likely to _ use _ his environment to adjust his body’s fickle temperature than to manage it on his own). Crowley gave another wicked, _ demonic _ grin, displaying teeth that were decidedly sharper than usual. He was sure, too, that by now his eyes had lost their battle against maintaining a semblance of mortality and were all venom-yellow and sharp-slitted pupils, all _ snake_. Aziraphale gave a slight, but visible shudder, the movement just enough to make his cock bounce against the swell of his stomach.

“_Sssssomething wrong_, angel?” Crowley’s sibilance already tended to overtake him when he was particularly overcome with emotion (or, in this case, unadulterated _ lust_), but he may have chosen to over-emphasize it just a _ smidge _ for the sake of their little game. Aziraphale swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing (and _ that _ gave Crowley a flicker of a particularly filthy mental image, a glimpse of a fantasy from the Garden of Eden itself). Crowley leaned into the role.

“Poor, naive, _virtuoussss_ little angel, all trapped in the demon’s lair. What ever shall you do?” Crowley crooned, imbuing his voice with the sort of vaguely taunting lilt most often reserved for his various and sundry demonic works. It had precisely the effect he’d intended. Aziraphale gave a low _moan_ of desire, his eyes visibly darkening with lust and hips lifting off the bed in wanton display. The low, rumbling chuckle of approval Crowley gave in response was nearly as earnest.

“Oh, you like that, do you? Do you want the vile,_ nassssty _ demon to have his wicked, wicked way with you?” Okay, that might have been a little _ too _ on-the-nose, but it worked on Aziraphale all the same. A soft whimper escaped him as he gave a little nod, his legs falling open a bit wider. Were it not for the generous padding of his thighs and arse, Crowley would surely have been able to see the delectable pink pucker of his hole by now. The thought nearly made his mouth water, as did the very implication of Aziraphale’s widespread legs.

“Please. _ Desecrate _ me.”

Fuck. ** _Fuck._ ** The sound that escaped Crowley as Aziraphale jabbed him directly in his previously-undiscovered kink was utterly inhuman and undemonic, but absolutely _ embarrassing. _The knowing glint in Aziraphale’s eye suggested he’d done it on purpose. Well, that was perfectly fine. Two could play at that game. And turnaround was fair play.

“Naughty, naughty,” Crowley scolded, a satisfied smirk curling the corners of his lips upward. “_Sssso_, the little angel wantsss me to _dessssecrate_ him?” Even as he spoke, Crowley’s appearance was continuing to change, morphing into something more blatantly infernal, more blatantly _reptilian_. Glimmering black scales shimmered into existence, framing his face and drawing further attention to the way he’d allowed his teeth to sharpen, his canines lengthening into distinct fangs. Scales likewise spread across his chest, in a fine line down his stomach, down, down to where his cock sat proudly at attention once more, fully erect and oozing precome. Aziraphale’s breath visibly caught in his throat as he watched the transformation, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights-- like _prey_. (And that thought _did_ things to Crowley deep down, pleasing something in both his serpentine and fiendish natures.)

Almost as an afterthought, once scales had finished spreading across his body, replacing nearly every patch of body hair normally scattered throughout his corporeal form (and then some), Crowley caught Aziraphale’s eye, arched a brow, and then glanced deliberately downward toward his own groin as his cock’s shape began to change. What had been a standard (if rather nice, in Crowley’s opinion-- and apparently Aziraphale’s as well) human phallus split neatly down the middle, each half thickening up to a slightly weightier girth than the whole which had comprised them. The overall shape of his hemipenis was different, too, and an array of slightly menacing spines had popped out along the plump heads. Almost as an afterthought, Crowley willed his testes internally, replacing them with a slit from which his pair of fat cocks protruded. 

Aziraphale gave a low moan, unbidden, and Crowley responded with a dark chuckle. His angel very _ much _ had a kink, it seemed, and he planned to _ fully _ exploit it.

Crowley hovered over Aziraphale, a thoughtful expression on his face as he eyed him over like a particularly delicious meal, his tongue occasionally flickering out to scent the air. Each and every time it did, it brought back to his soft palate the _ mouthwatering _ aroma of Aziraphale’s arousal hanging heavy in the air, warm and soft and sweet like brown sugar. Crowley’s cocks throbbed, oozing a fair bit of slippery, glistening precome from the blunt, spiny heads. Aziraphale let out a quiet whimper and shifted-- no, _ squirmed _ in place under his demonic gaze.  
  
Finally, Crowley chose to have at least some measure of pity on him and moved in closer, trailing glossy black, claw-tipped fingers up Aziraphale’s legs in a way that made those lusciously thick thighs tremble. He leaned in, lips parting and jaw neatly unhinging, to easily swallow Aziraphale’s cock down in a single, fluid movement. 

Somewhere along the line, his transition to more serpent than man(-shaped being) had robbed him of the eyelids he’d only _ really _ gotten the hang of using over the last few centuries. He deeply regretted the loss, if only because he wished to let his eyes flutter shut so he could savor the heavy taste of Aziraphale on his tongue more fully. Transformed like this, his soft palate was alight with the angel’s aroma, and his tongue writhed and swirled around Aziraphale’s prick, working at dual purpose to tease and pleasure him as well as draw still more of his tantalizing scent toward the roof of Crowley’s mouth, where his peculiar, snake-like organ waited to receive it. (His _ Jacobson’s _ organ, he’d learned recently, while browsing a suspiciously herpetological book which had appeared in Aziraphale’s shop.)

Aziraphale let out a soft cry, almost muffled, as if he was trying to keep quiet, though his whole body trembled under the onslaught. That simply wouldn’t _ do. _ Crowley wished to _ hear _ him. So he wrapped his tongue more securely around Aziraphale’s _ deliciously _ hot prick, utilizing every demonic and serpentine trick under his belt to control the sinuous organ at his command as he swallowed Aziraphale down, tongue and throat working in tandem to constrict him. _ That _ earned more of a proper shout, Aziraphale’s hips jerking upward to drive his cock deeper into Crowley’s throat, just as he wanted. But Aziraphale was beginning to tremble with the tell-tale signs of an impending orgasm, even more blatantly obvious when paired with the way Crowley could _ feel _ Aziraphale’s balls drawing up tighter where they pressed against his chin. And that wouldn’t do at _ all_.

When Crowley abruptly pulled up off Aziraphale’s dick, leaving him quivering on the brink of orgasm, Aziraphale _ swore _ quite colorfully and fervently, drawing a snicker from Crowley.

“Not so _ virtuousssss _ after all, are you, angel?” 

Aziraphale scowled, but the effect was slightly ruined (or, arguably, _ amplified _ ) by the way he was flushed all the way down to his chest now, hair a bit mussed from rubbing against the pillow Crowley had miracled beneath his head.  
  
“Do your _ worst_, demon,” he bravely proclaimed, though there was a slight quiver to his lower lip that belied the tone. 

Crowley hissed in anticipation, and when he slid his way further up Aziraphale’s body, Crowley found that his legs had given way to the powerful coils of his serpent form, quite without him intending it. Aziraphale jerked in similar surprise, mouth falling open as he stared wide-eyed down at Crowley’s now fully reptilian lower body. But Aziraphale’s _ cock _ jumped too, pressed up against the scaled underside of Crowley’s lower body as it presently was. (And Crowley made yet another mental note, stuffing it in the now-overflowing desk drawer in his mind labeled _ ‘Aziraphale’s kinks,’ _ and at this rate he’d need a whole separate bloody _ room _ to categorize Aziraphale’s likes and interests and desires-- which he was _ more _ than okay with.)

“Ooh, you _ like _ that, don’t you, _ princssssipality_?” Crowley crooned, and Aziraphale could only give a helpless, needy whimper and nod of his head, fully caught-out. Crowley chuckled as he deliberately slithered his way up Aziraphale’s body, winding his muscular coils leisurely around Aziraphale’s lower body. Crowley’s spiny dual pricks scraped up against Aziraphale’s stomach, and Crowley rocked his not-quite-hips-any-longer against the softness there, rubbing his erections against Aziraphale and smearing a copious amount of slippery, viscous precome against the pale, soft-furred flesh of his belly. He was teasing himself as well as Aziraphale now, not quite ready for their game to end.  
  
“_Please_,” Aziraphale breathed, eyes almost glassy with lust where they stared into Crowley’s own fully demonic eyes, Aziraphale’s own cock leaving a sticky mess against every inch of Crowley’s scaled lower body that dragged across it. 

“_Pleasssse _ what?” Crowley retorted, delicately dragging a single clawed finger from the center of Aziraphale’s chest up his throat (where Aziraphale visibly swallowed again, convulsively) and to the very tip of his chin. A red line followed in the wake of the glossy, obsidian nail, and Crowley dimly wondered whether that was a token of its _ sharpness _ or the way his infernal nature was bubbling beneath the surface of his physical form at present. Aziraphale gave a bitten-off _ whine _ which did little to clear up the matter, but it was a _ delightful _ sound to hear all the same.

“_Defile _ me,” Aziraphale begged, his voice soft and shaky and uncertain in a way that revealed a very real fear underneath. Crowley’s mask slipped, just for a moment, and he leaned in closer.

“Aziraphale? Are you alright?” he murmured, the hissing undertone dropped completely for a second so he could _ check in _ and make sure he hadn’t taken it too far. Aziraphale’s eyes were glazed in a way that was only too-familiar, distant and not quite seeing his current surroundings. Crowley swore, softly but earnestly, and gave a snap of his fingers that vanished the rope around Aziraphale’s wrists and ankles-- and his own _ snake-like _ appearance along with it. Crowley staggered slightly with the shock of having legs and eyelids and a normal, human tongue again, but then he was pressing his body close up against Aziraphale, drawing his angel into his arms. He didn’t even spare a second for the thought that he was still hard (both of them were, as a matter of fact), too caught up in his concern for Aziraphale.

“Angel. _ Angel. _ Hey, stay with me. I’m right here. We’re in my flat. It’s damn near the _ end _ of 2019 already, we’re in my flat, we’re _ safe_. _ You’re _ safe. Take a deep breath, angel. That’s it,” Crowley coaxed. As he talked, Aziraphale began to stir a little, responding sluggishly to Crowley’s encouragement and reassurances. Finally, he took in a sharp, shaky breath and blinked a few times, eyes a little watery and still slightly unfocused, but definitely he definitely seemed to be more _ here _ than he’d looked a few moments prior.  
  
“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice was small, and uncertain, and Crowley’s heart fractured just a little at the sound. The way he wrapped Aziraphale up in his arms and legs and pulled him in even closer, Aziraphale’s face pressed against his chest where he’d be able to hear Crowley’s heart hammering against his ribs with alarm, helped ease the pain a bit. Aziraphale finally made a small sound and wrapped his arms around Crowley in return, reciprocating. His face pressed into Crowley’s chest more fully, smearing it with dampness that Crowley was sure was tears. (And his suspicions were confirmed a moment later when Aziraphale’s shoulders began to shake.)

“Shhhh, that’s it. You’re alright,” Crowley murmured, voice a low, soothing undertone. His fingers worked their way through Aziraphale’s sweat-damp, messy curls as he talked, nails lightly scratching against Aziraphale’s scalp in the way he knew he liked. The familiarity of the gesture finally helped Aziraphale relax against him a little, muffled sobs giving way to sniffles. “I know, angel. I’ve got you,” Crowley continued a bit thickly, speaking around the lump in his own throat. Because he _ did _ know, only too well. 

Sometimes Aziraphale took him so deep into subspace he lost himself completely, drifted too far away from his physical body and too deeply into the dark cosmos of his own psyche. That it was a distinctly _ human _ phenomenon did little to lessen its impact. And, like a fool, he’d let Aziraphale drag him hip-deep into a new kink they hadn’t even _ begun _ to discuss or negotiate. He should have _ known _ better, after all the research they’d done. (That Aziraphale had _ done _ the leading mattered little. The instant Aziraphale had ceded power to Crowley in the scene, Crowley had become the responsible party. And wasn’t _ that _ a terrifying thought, Crowley with power over the man-shaped-being he loved?) 

Aziraphale miracled a tissue-- no, a _ handkerchief_, because of course he was still that old-fashioned-- into his hand and turned away to blow his nose messily. Once the handkerchief was miracled back out of existence, Aziraphale turned back to face Crowley more fully, giving him a still-watery, sheepish, almost _ self-deprecating _ smile. That, too, was familiar, so Crowley cut him off the second he opened his mouth to _ apologize_, of all things.

“_No._” Using that tone of voice, the tone Aziraphale had developed to use on _ him _ was new for Crowley, but he wielded it with as much certainty as he could muster (and these days, when it came to Aziraphale, that was a fair amount). Aziraphale hesitated and closed his mouth slowly, which Crowley rewarded with a small smile. “C’mere, angel.” This, Aziraphale was clearly only too happy to obey. He snuggled right into Crowley’s side, and Crowley miracled a particularly warm blanket around the two of them. (He wasn’t sure _ what _ had happened to the downy comforter that was usually present on his bed, and he couldn’t be arsed to give a damn as long as they had _ something _ to keep them warm.)

“Sorry,” Aziraphale mumbled anyway, after they’d gotten settled, and Crowley scowled and gave a little pinch to his rump that made Aziraphale yelp and flinch away from it. (Another thing he’d stolen from Aziraphale.) The deterrent worked, even if he scowled at Crowley, clearly rubbing at the spot where Crowley had pinched him somewhere beneath the blankets.  
  
“You have nothing to apologize for, angel,” Crowley replied determinedly, and when Aziraphale started to open his mouth again, he continued with, “_I mean it. _ How many times have you told me the same thing, when we’ve gotten in over our heads with this _ arrangement _ before, hm?” Aziraphale gave a displeased huff, though it was more the kind of sound he made when Crowley was actually being _ reasonable _ for once and Aziraphale _ knew _ he was and disliked it immensely. “Yeah, exactly,” Crowley replied, and Aziraphale sighed before snuggling back into him. They were both silent for a long few moments, long enough both of their erections had subsided naturally and that Crowley was beginning to doze off.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice made Crowley jolt slightly, stirring out of his sluggish half-sleeping state.

“_Mmmm? _” Crowley managed, eyes still closed, though he shifted and nuzzled into the top of Aziraphale’s head a little more to show he was listening.

“Can we… Can we try it again? Not-- Not right _ now_, of course, I think even _ I _ know that would be a terrible idea. But… Later. When we’ve… _ talked _ about it a bit more, planned things out and figured out what might be alright for me and what might be too much.”  
  
Crowley smiled against the soft, still-damp curls atop Aziraphale’s head. “Angel, there’s nothing that would make me happier.”


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional warning in the end notes.

Aziraphale cried out as Crowley’s teeth sank into the tender flesh of his throat, his back arched delectably with the way Crowley’s fingers tangled in his sweat-damp curls. Crowley _ growled _ , the sound just barely muffled against Aziraphale’s neck. His dual cocks plunged deeper inside of Aziraphale, filling him up near to bursting, stretching him open almost _ impossibly _ wide. (Perhaps it _ would _ have been impossible, in fact, were they both mortal.)

Crowley had wrapped himself _deliciously_ tightly around Aziraphale before entering him, and Crowley’s muscular coils now squeezed around him as little twitches of his body thrust his fat, reptilian pricks in and out of the tight clench of Aziraphale’s eager, welcoming hole. The only reason his upper body remained as vaguely humanoid as it had was because they’d learned, through quite a bit of experimentation, that Aziraphale _really_ liked Crowley manhandling him. And that was _much_ easier with opposable thumbs (and hands and arms, for that matter).   
  
“_Look at you,_” Crowley hissed, his tongue flicking out against Aziraphale’s neck where he’d just left another brilliant purple mark with his teeth, another for the collection scattered all over Aziraphale’s body. (As well as his own, but that was another matter.) Aziraphale _whined_ and rocked back against him as best he could, the movement making his neglected cock bob against his well-padded stomach in a way Crowley could watch for _hours_.  
  
“You’re _ssssso_ _eager_ to take whatever I give you. _Ssssuch_ a desperate little _sssslut_,” Crowley continued with a low purr, and Aziraphale nearly sobbed in response. Crowley’s serpentine lower body simply flexed around him in reaction, gripping him ever more tightly, even as he pulled harder on Aziraphale’s hair, forcing his back to arch even more. Angel or not, it couldn’t have been a comfortable position, but Crowley was sure that was half the point. Aziraphale, meanwhile, hardly seemed capable of getting a single syllable out. But Crowley knew just how to fix that. “_Sssssay _it,” Crowley insisted, low and sibilant in Aziraphale’s ear.  
  
“I’m-- _oh, God-- _I’m your desperate little slut. I’m-- _oh, Crowley, yes, fuck--_ I’m _yours_. Please, I’m all yours.”

No matter how many times Aziraphale said it, no matter the context, Crowley would never get over the pang of hot desire and satisfaction that thrummed through him.  
  
“Then _ perhapssss _ I should show you _ jussst _ what _ happensss _ to little _ ssssslutty _ angels who _ conssssort _ with demons,” Crowley rasped, voice pitched low and menacing, his teeth scraping against Aziraphale’s earlobe.   
  
“God, yes, please--” Aziraphale was too far gone now to play their game properly, but that was fine, and something Crowley was quite used to. By now, he knew exactly what his angel both wanted and _ craved _ . 

The clawed hand he placed, splayed, against Aziraphale’s chest crackled with dark lightning, a visual manifestation of the hellish powers he’d drawn to the surface. Aziraphale’s entire body spasmed as he let out a _ shout_, and a wave of white-hot energy exploded outward from him as his pleasure peaked. If Crowley hadn’t cranked up his demonic energy to _ defile _ Aziraphale as he’d asked, he would quite possibly have been been reduced to ash. As it was, the climax that ripped through him left him absolutely _ devastated _ in its wake.

Crowley _ yelled _ nearly in unison with Aziraphale as mingled pleasure and pain wracked his body in an endless, vicious, _ wonderful _ feedback loop. Aziraphale spasmed in much the same way, and Crowley was only as aware of it as he was because of the tight clench of Aziraphale around him, rippling in a way that seemed designed solely to milk Crowley of every drop of his seed. And Crowley was only too happy to oblige, as always.  
  
The space where his hips would have been had he not been in such a serpentine form juttered against Aziraphale’s arse, his dual cocks pulsing and throbbing as they spilled his essence deep inside Aziraphale. Long seconds passed, possibly longer, as the demon and angel twined together in ecstasy, before they finally collapsed back into the bed. Crowley’s reptilian features disappeared with a _ pop _ as he fell backwards, breathing heavily, still twitching and trembling a little with how hard he’d _ come. _ It was a few seconds longer before he realized Aziraphale was being uncharacteristically quiet and cracked open an eyelid (which he was fairly grateful for having at the moment, heavy-lidded as his eyes were). 

Aziraphale was staring down at his chest, seemingly transfixed. Crowley winced slightly, already suspecting he knew what he’d see there. And sure enough, when he gently grasped Aziraphale’s shoulder and turned him just slightly, an angry red stood out against his normally pale flesh. But that clearly wasn’t what Aziraphale was staring at-- or at least it wasn’t the _ only _ thing. Because, just as Aziraphale had once marked him with a sunburst pattern, Crowley had left a mark of his [ own](https://i.gyazo.com/8fe25466f0bf539141de7c6b2a19a37b.png). The many-branched design was unmistakably a tree, deep-rooted and of a currently reddish-pink, almost purple hue that Crowley suspected would fade over time into a paler, shiny white to match the scar he still wore.

“Angel, I--”

“Shush,” Aziraphale responded promptly, touching a finger gingerly to the center of his chest. “It’s perfect.”   
  
Crowley still doubted anything _ he _ did could ever be called _ perfect_, but he likewise knew better than to argue. Instead, he drew his angel into his arms and made love to him all over again. And this time, Aziraphale wasn’t the only one to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crowley leaves a scar/mark on Aziraphale. But this probably doesn't surprise you if you read the first fic in the series lol.
> 
> Your comments fuel me.
> 
> Also, hmu at the tumble: https://prosthetical.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley's roleplay contains some dubcon/noncon elements, but they're both VERY much consenting.
> 
> Brief discussion of exhibitionism, and nearly getting caught in the act by customers and by Gabriel.
> 
> Also, vore is kinda implied? Because Crowley's a snek.
> 
> Other snek-related warnings: Crowley turns fairly snake-like, in terms of his appearance, his lower body, and (spoiler alert) his dick(s), and Aziraphale's into it. Also, he unhinges his jaw at one point. Basically, Aziraphale has a snake/demon kink.
> 
> Aziraphale and Crowley jump into a scene/kink way too quickly without negotiating it properly. Aziraphale goes a bit too far into subspace and loses himself, so he can't consent properly anymore. (Crowley checks in with him and immediately stops the scene when he realizes what's happened.) Also, discussion of Crowley doing the same thing during scenes where he's the bottom/sub.


End file.
